


Dying Does Not Responsible Parenting Make

by Flawney



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Chi-Chi takes matters into her own hands, F/M, Gen, Gohan learns more about women than he ever wanted to, Vegeta really does not know how to handle pregnant women, descriptions of childbirth, everything is awkward forever, or Bulma breastfeeding, or Chi-Chi in general, pregnant hormonal Chi-Chi, the Nameks too, undoing Goku's permanent death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-04-09 10:12:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 16,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4344542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flawney/pseuds/Flawney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After discovering her pregnancy with Goten, Chi-Chi decides to disregard Goku's request to not be brought back to life and travel to Namek to use their Dragon Balls for the wish. Unfortunately, the only spaceship capable of making the trip is Vegeta's gravity room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Timing is Everything

In the first week after the Cell Games, Chi-Chi was inconsolable. When the distressed recent widow's friends tried to console her (which was frequent at first), it had the opposite effect. No one's arms would ever be strong enough, or warm enough, or _anything_ enough. When they tried to cheer her, it was considerably worse. It was like everyone was trying to get her to forget her husband while simultaneously reminding her of his cheery disposition and life outlook at every turn. It was maddening. She barely left bed. It was fortunate that Ox-King was a closet domestic, else she and Gohan might have starved.

In the second week, Chi-Chi was going through the motions. Cooking; cleaning; practicing kata; tending her vegetable garden; anything so she wouldn't have to _think_. She was happy that the planet was still standing. Happier still that her son had been spared in the battle for its fate. But neither balanced out the crushing grief she felt because her husband _hadn't_. If she thought about it too hard....well, she was making a point not to think about it. Her house was standing, her son was alive, and she had work to do.

In the third week, Gohan's home schooling resumed. Chi-Chi reasoned that he might also appreciate having something to keep his mind off their missing house member that wasn't doing chores or playing with dinosaurs in the wilderness with his grandfather (whom she'd sent home to Fire Mountain anyway), and he took to it with gusto. It had the added benefit of giving herself another distraction from not thinking about....but she wasn't thinking about that at all was she? AT. ALL. Gohan was blazing through his lessons and she'd need to plan his next curriculum soon. 

In the fourth week, Chi-Chi actually took stock of her household. While they did live a fairly sustainable, self-sufficient lifestyle, there were some things that couldn't be produced on their little farm or fished from the nearby rivers. And shopping was an activity that could both relieve stress and keep her mind off things she was refusing to think about wasn't it? Leaving Gohan with strict instructions to study, Chi-Chi took the nimbus to Orange Star City, determined not to think about how it felt to ride with Goku for the first time as a couple and failed miserably. It wasn't until after she'd unpacked and put everything away that she noticed her stock of certain supplies were higher than they should have been. Supplies that, as the only woman living in a house of clueless men, she was very aware of the state of at all times. Counting backwards very deliberately to the last time she'd needed them and......she swore. Loudly. Gohan was so surprised, he drove his pencil through his textbook. And his desk.


	2. Road Trips Are Overrated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ox-King reflects on his life while Chi-Chi goes on the war path. Gohan just wants to know what's going on and Bulma really, _really_ needs a drink. A perfectly normal day in the life of the family Son and friends.

While they were speeding (at what was most certainly well over the legal limit) towards West city in the fastest areal vehicle available to them that could hold well, _him_ , Ox-King wondered if he had been equipped with some kind of internal radar that would alert him when his daughter was about to cause trouble. He'd gone home a month prior at Chi-Chi's insistence; the giant man _did_ have a village to preside over (and was always somewhat paranoid that his house would be on fire when he got back if he left it for too long). It had been nice to settle back into something of a normal routine with people not dying in droves and no one threatening to blow up the planet. He was deeply saddened by his son-in-law's passing, but was prepared for life to go on. 

It was with this sentiment that Ox-King prepared a perfectly _normal_ picnic lunch with the intention of spending a perfectly _normal_ picnic day with his family, giving Gohan a break from studying and Chi-Chi a break from cooking. He certainly hadn't been expecting Chi-Chi to have the engine of what was probably a military grade plane revved up (along with her impressive and terrifying temper) with Gohan on board, evidently ready to wage war on something. As the proposed picnic had served to calm her down a considerable amount, it was starting to seem like whatever instinct that told him “now is a good time to visit your family” was really trying to tell him “you should go stop your daughter from probable homicide.” At the end of the day, it didn't stop them from _going_ , but at least the cargo plane wasn't capable of as much collateral damage. 

“Say, Mom.....” Gohan spoke softly, using the same tone he would with a potentially hostile wild dinosaur. “Why is it that we're going to Capsule Corporation all of a sudden?” The young boy was equal parts confused and concerned; his mother had been feeling sick that morning, then had taken a rather uncharacteristic nap, only to wake up and immediately fly into a rage (and it had been _spectacular_ , even for her). This combined with the fact that not only had her mood shifted completely at lunch, but she'd eaten nearly as much as he had. “You weren't feeling well, and we can visit Ms. Bulma anytime, and....”

“I'm feelin' FINE.” Chi-Chi ground out, barely containing whatever fury had taken over once again. She was actually glowing; ki flaring around wildly. If she'd been stronger, there wouldn't have been a plane left to take them. Gohan shot a pleading look at his grandfather, hoping desperately that he could calm her down again. Or maybe give her food. Ox-King sent him a nervous look in return advising that it might be best if they spent the remainder of the trip in silence.

When they landed outside Capsule Corporation, Bulma was surprised to see Chi-Chi hopping out of the pilot's seat, if only because the tiny woman had actually bothered to use the landing gear. She would have thought it polite of Chi-Chi, choosing not using her lawn as a convenient breaking surface, except for the near-feral look on the other woman's face. Looking to the heavens through her living room ceiling, Bulma prayed for a patience she knew she did not possess: “Dende, help me out here—I am absolutely not cut out for dealing with this kind of shit without nicotine.” Huffing (though she really didn't expect a response from the child-Kami) she glanced at her small son, napping on a blanket on the floor. “Y'know, Kiddo, that's your fault.”

Trunks expressed his sympathy by continuing to sleep, oblivious. Sighing audibly, Bulma picked up the baby, strapped him into a chest carrier, looked out the window to see if maybe the Son family parked on her lawn was in fact, a figment of her imagination, and poured herself a double shot of whiskey when she verified it wasn't. “No way I'm doing this sober!” she declared before downing the shot in one gulp. It wasn't irresponsible—she'd just use the test strips before she fed the baby next.

When Bulma emerged from the front door, it was with the air of lone warrior defending her castle, proudly displaying her baby front-pack like some kind of new-mom battle armor. Reactions to this spectacle were mixed; Chi-Chi's anger instantly fizzled out, Gohan seemed perplexed that someone could just _wear a baby_ , and Ox-King melted into a puddle of grandfatherly goo. Bulma, determining that nothing had been or was going be to set on fire, opted to invite the Son family in for tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love pregnant, hormonal Chi-Chi and disgruntled, nicotine-deprived Bulma. And you know Bulma totally used the breast milk alcohol test strips. xD


	3. Space Trips Aren't Much Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chi-Chi reveals her pregnancy and Vegeta gets trapped in his own spaceship.

Vegeta, despite running the exact details of the events leading up to his current predicament through his mind on repeat, could not, for the life of him, figure out how he'd wound up in this situation. The proud prince had spent very little time during his three year on-again-off-again residence on Planet Earth contemplating human beings; it would cost too many precious brain cells to even begin to parse how it happened to be that his superior warrior race was biologically compatible with a group of bipeds who didn't have the evolutionary sense to innately _learn how to fly_. Besides which, even if he did care (and he most certainly did _not)_ , he simply didn't have the data. The only members of the species Vegeta had any exposure to at all were the Briefs (who bizarrely chose to treat him as one of their own before he had slept with and had a child with their daughter—and that was its own, whole, separate can of worms) and the ones calling themselves warriors who decided they would show up whenever there was a threat to do.....something. The former there was simply no accounting for (they were insane) and the latter were annoying. But given the choice between exposure to the masses of humanity, Kakarott's insufferable band of self-proclaimed heroes, or the vast emptiness of space, well.....Capsule Corporation wasn't that bad a place.

At least it wasn't before he found himself trapped in _his own ship_ hurtling towards some god-forsaken corner of space with Bulma, his irritating infant son, and Kakarrot's ENTIRE FAMILY.

It had started innocently enough—Vegeta had felt Gohan's substantial ki signature spiking in the general vicinity of his parking space on the grounds and figured the boy wanted an ass-beating. Which he would have been only too happy to supply. It was not however, in any of his plans to encounter a flailing, angry banshee apparently intent on the launch controls of his ship when he got there. Given his limited experience with humans in general, and total lack of interest in the surrounding “group”, Vegeta didn't immediately understand the inherent danger of an angry Chi-Chi, and thus, underestimated her unique brand of temper.

Ox-King, who was well acquainted with both his daughter's temper and strength, was trying, in vain, to hold her back. “Chi-Chi, I know how ya feel, but ya can' just launch yerself inta space!” Chi-Chi responded to his concern by punching him in the face. Bulma and Gohan did nothing more useful than freak out on the sidelines and Vegeta couldn't look away. It was like a train wreck in progress.

“Pa! I toldja, I'm gonna wish Goku back ta life and ta do that, I needta go ta space!” Shaking her fist, she got as close to being in her father's face as her height would allow (which was about his belly-button) and stomped her foot. If the floor hadn't been designed to withstand Saiyan strength, it would have cracked under the pressure. “Three years! Three years to prepare for those fake people, three years to train, three years distracting Gohan from his studies. Three years and he said he'd get a job!” Even Vegeta nearly fell over in surprise. What kind of logic _was_ that?

Gohan, who had been living with the woman for his entire life, was the first to recover (Ox-King was still nursing a shiner). “Mom.....you want to wish Dad back to life, so he can....get a job?” Admittedly, it was strange reasoning, even for her. As usual, she was completely unperturbed.

“Of course! He promised after all.” It was at this point that Bulma felt that she needed to be the voice of reason. Vegeta lamented not having popcorn.

“Chi-Chi, don't you think that's a little...” She hesitated to say “selfish” because it wasn't, really, at least any more so than Goku's original request to stay dead in the first place. But the rest of them were willing to go along with it. Though, Bulma supposed, the rest of them weren't married to him.

“It's notta little thing, Bulma! We haven' had an income since Goku's winnings from the tournament. _Before we got married!_ He said after fighting this time, he'd getta job. But instead, he _died!_ Do you know what kind of grocery bills we have?! Feeding one half-Saiyan is hard enough, let alone two! I can' even—”

Bulma blinked. Twice. “Chi-Chi....you said two.” This was met by blank stares from everyone except Vegeta, who had lost his patience for the real-life soap opera developing in his space ship. If there wasn't going to be a brawl, what was the point? “Are you by any chance....expecting?”

To this, Chi-Chi gave a terse nod and Ox-King's face lit up like it was Christmas morning. “I'm gonna be a grampa again, eh? Tha's great, Chi-Chi!” The giant man proceeded to swing his daughter around like he had when she was small and prompted a small, shy smile from her. The jubilation was too much for the Prince of All Saiyans.

“What the hell do you think you're doing in my ship?” Normally, the look on his face and the tone of his voice would send people running for the hills. Unfortunately for Vegeta, none of this particular group was at all affected. Actually, they all ignored him completely.

“Mom, you're going to have a baby? I'm going to be a big brother?” Gohan's eyes sparkled with mirth at the idea. Vegeta's eyes became the size of dinner plates when it finally sunk in what was being discussed.

No. No no no no no no no no no no no no no. It was bad enough when it was his own, but _Kakarrot's?_ He forgot to be offended at being ignored and determined right there that the ship wasn't worth it. Dr. Briefs could make him another one if they managed to blow themselves up. He wanted no part of this. Before he could make his great escape however, Panchy Briefs showed up with an enormous backpack, claiming that it held everything they would need for their “little camping trip”, and handed it to the stunned Vegeta before the door closed on his face. The launch sequence had been set. He was trapped.

Thinking on it for the umpteenth time, Vegeta couldn't decide whether to curse or thank Bulma's mother. On the one hand, they wouldn't starve. On the other, it might be a kinder end than being trapped in space with a pregnant human woman. _Kakarrot's_ human pregnant woman. It had been maybe an hour since they took off and he already semi-seriously considered throwing himself out the airlock to end his misery. Maybe he'd even survive re-entry into the atmosphere if he did it quick enough. But the thought of Kakarrot's smug face from the afterlife if he failed. No, that wouldn't do. He would die a warrior's death. Scowling, he resigned himself to his fate. Maybe he'd luck out and an asteroid would mercifully obliterate the ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having way too much fun writing this. Thanks for the kudos and comments so far <3


	4. Space Trip 2: Electric Boogaloo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma, Chi-Chi, and Ox-King discuss child-rearing details during the trip through space. Vegeta and Gohan wish they were anywhere else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breastfeeding discussed at length. Mostly to make Vegeta uncomfortable. I have no sympathy for him xD

Somewhere around the five hour mark into the group's excursion into space, Gohan really wished he had been left behind. Not because he was bored, or because his mother had packed a multitude of study materials, or even because in the cramped space there wasn't anything to _do_. It was because he _really_ could have done without the exchange between Bulma, his mother, and bafflingly, his grandfather, as they compared notes on motherhood (though, it sounded at times more like they were commiserating over battle scars). The space was too small for him to escape overhearing, and he gained a few choice vocabulary words he could have done without as a result. He especially did not need to know which were or were not applicable in his own birth; he would rather not know _anything_ about that process. _Epidural_ was a word he could handle (and he idly wondered if he could perhaps get one for his brain. If numbed enough, he might forget the entire, embarrassing conversation that was for the love of everything holy, _still happening)._

Gohan would have been relieved at the change of topic if it had been to anything other than Trunks' eating habits. Even more so if the topic hadn't come up because right then, Trunks decided he was hungry. At the first glimpse of bare flesh upon Bulma opening her shirt, the traumatized kid turned away at a speed he'd could only achieve while powered up, face red to his ears. Vegeta noticed this (he'd been tuning everything else out) and having spent exactly no time talking to Bulma (or anyone else) about human child-rearing, freaked out in spectacular fashion.

“What the hell are you doing?! Disrobing _here?”_ Everyone but Gohan turned to look at Vegeta as though he'd grown a second head. Gohan was still trying to melt into the floor. “I know you have no shame, but _honestly?”_

If it had been anyone else, Bulma wouldn’t have found his reaction quite as hilarious, but it _was_ Vegeta, and the look on his face was _priceless._ All sputtering with indignation and blushing to his eyebrows (he was such a prude!). She could have fun with this; he did, after all, volunteer himself for the discussion. “Oh, how else do you propose I feed our son, Vegeta? Please, bestow upon us mere mortals your amazing child-rearing knowledge. Coming from a people who _shot babies into space,_ I’m sure it’s _gold.”_

Vegeta looked confused for a moment, until it registered what had been said, and if possible, his face took on a darker shade of red. “You’re _what?_ Why do you need to take your clothes off for _that?”_ The fair-faired genius had never harbored an ounce of shame about her body, and she certainly didn’t now; she wasn’t even doing anything perverted. Vegeta’s discomfort in regards to the topic of nudity and sex was always a joy though, so she was going to milk this (pun intended) for all it was worth. As though in on his mother’s line of thinking, Trunks chose that moment to latch on and gave a great big slurp. The increasingly flustered prince was officially out of his depth at that and his eyebrows disappeared into his hairline (quite a feat, considering the size of his widow’s peak). Sometimes, there truly was nothing like a visual aid to drive a point home. Truly, though, did he somehow not _know?_

“Oh? What did Saiyan women do?” Chi-Chi, either oblivious or uncaring to both Vegeta’s and Gohan’s discomfort, barreled into the discourse with the grace of a three-legged triceratops while Trunks kept happily slurping away. It was a sound Gohan was certain would frequent his nightmares for weeks to come. “We didn’ know about it until Gohan was four, so never thought ta do anything differently.” Smiling fondly in her son’s direction, she added, winking, “Though, he was never that loud.”

Ox-King bellowed out a laugh only a man his size could attain. “But he did have quite the appetite, eh?” Gohan filed that under “other information he didn’t need to know” and continued attempting to retreat to a happy place. He loved his family dearly, but there were just some things you didn't need to _ever_ know.

“Saiyan infants were placed in an incubator until they could survive on solid food. There was none of this coddling you humans seem to insist on doing.” Vegeta would make this conversation make sense if it killed him. He could turn this around. “I know I’ve seen you feed him solid food before, so I don’t know why you insist on this foolishness.”

Bulma scoffed. “He’s only nine months old Vegeta. He needs milk along with solid food at his stage of development.” She swept her free hand down her front for effect. “And this? Nature’s milk.” For a moment, she looked thoughtful. "I'd have to imagine Saiyan women went through something similar though; producing milk—it's pretty much universal in mammalian reproduction, and Saiyans are close enough to humans that we can interbreed."

"Our women were _warriors_. We did not engage in such frivolities! I knew you humans were a backwards people, but using your own _bodies_? How is that even _sanitary?!"_ As he stopped to take a breath, Vegeta came to the sudden realization that while he could continue his tirade (and he didn't want to be outdone), these were questions he in actuality, didn't want the answers to, so wisely, decided to shut up. Bulma liked statistics, and could, no doubt, fill his brain with a multitude of them on the subject.

Chi-Chi winced at the thought of her own progressively tender assets getting no relief, ignoring Vegeta's outburst entirely. Rather than take offense, he found himself oddly grateful for the excuse to extract himself from the discussion. “Oh dear. Those poor women. Their breasts must’ve been so sore! Bulma, can you imagine?”

And so, it continued.

Vegeta wondered when he was going to escape this bizarre reality where conversations like this happened in his presence and he wasn’t allowed to massacre the participants. Gohan swore that when they got back to Earth, he’d take all of Piccolo’s lessons on meditation seriously and somehow purge his mind of this entire trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wonder how much Vegeta even really _knows_ about these things—he was only five when his planet was blown up. Not that he'd admit to not knowing something. He has his pride, after all.


	5. It's Not the Journey, It's the Destination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group lands on New Namek. Chi-Chi has mood swings and Vegeta has an uncomfortable moment of internal reflection.

In the relatively short time it took for orbit around New Namek to be established and a location for landing determined, Chi-Chi had accomplished the following tasks:  
1) Eaten her twelfth “snack” of the day. They were rapidly and alarmingly approaching an end to the rations that had been packed (and it was truly a remarkable thing to exhaust Panchy Briefs’ sense of how much food was appropriate).  
2) Murdered the last of the three punching bags she’d found in their backpack. Bulma couldn’t decide whether to be more curious just where her mother thought they were going to have gone through the trouble of capsulizing them in their luggage or trying to figure out from the amount of force needed to decimate a high-quality, sturdy punching bag how frighteningly easy it would be for Chi-Chi to _end_ a normal person. Potentially by accident. Namely _her_. She made a mental note to always stay on the other woman’s good side.  
3) Thrown every pot, pan, and utensil from their small capsule kitchen unit at her father, screaming about his “carefree attitude” and “men”. Despite the terrifying accuracy and speed with which she vaulted things at him, he laughed good naturedly, catching and dodging items with little fanfare. Since that made it worse, this activity took most of the time slot.   
4) Thrown _up_ her twelfth snack of the day.   
5) Made and drank tea to relieve her nausea.  
6) Repeated step 3, but this time directing her tirade towards Vegeta, who had evidentially worn out his free talking-crap-about-women-card while in the presence of a pregnant, and already by nature, volatile woman. Gohan would have found the look on the man’s face hilarious if he hadn’t been huddled under the table in natural disaster preparedness fashion.  
7) Cried.

By the time they’d landed, every member of the group was ready to kiss the ground. If it hadn’t been that weird color Namekians seemed to prefer their vegetation, they just might have.

While Gohan gleefully ran off in search of Elder Moori, Bulma plopped down to change Trunks’ diaper, and Ox-King set up their capsule kitchen to make _more food_ , Vegeta contemplated Kakarrot’s choice in mate. As she was knitting some kind of patchwork blanket, and so, not yelling (or throwing things, though those needles she was using could be converted to weaponry without difficultly, he was sure) he felt it was relatively safe to observe her behavior. It wasn’t as though he were particularly curious about human reproduction (he’d already learned more about that topic than he’d wanted during the ten days of torture in space with two women well versed in first-hand knowledge of the subject, one of whom _he’d slept with_ ) but he was interested in her from a tactical standpoint. This was the woman who had birthed Gohan. Gohan, who was more powerful than his father. Than Cell. Than _him_. Much as he wanted to deny it, he was painfully outclassed by a ten-year-old boy. A ten-year-old boy who was about to become a sibling. And for the first time ever, he wondered just how much of that impossible strength could be attributed to his mother and not his father. He’d watched the woman lodge kitchen knives into walls that were designed to withstand _Saiyan_ abuse. He felt her tiny human ki grow exponentially in her temper. Still not enough to be a threat, but eerily similar to Gohan’s ability to do the same (which certainly _was_ ). Would he gain any insight to Gohan’s character by learning more about his mother’s? It was worth consideration.

The inevitable direction his train of thought opted to take was disconcerting, but refused to be derailed, barreling on ahead into territory he was not prepared to explore, unconcerned.

Vegeta knew well through temporal cheating who his own, still infant son would become. Or at least, would become if he’d grown up half-orphaned in an apocalypse. It would take an act of congress to get him to admit it, but he actually _liked_ the kid. Trunks-from-the-alternate-future was pretty cool. And Vegeta had absolutely no hand in having raised him. He’d contributed his genetics; that much was certain. Trunks was definitely Saiyan. Definitely _his_. But just to look at him, he was also definitely human. _Bulma’s_. In how many other ways was he his mother’s son? She had, at least the alternate future version of her, raised him alone. He was somewhat startled to discover that realization caused him equal parts pride and…. _pain_.

The emotionally stunted prince was saved from his musings by Gohan returning with the elder Namekian, who glanced distastefully in his direction. Mentally, he shrugged. It wasn’t as though he was planning on murdering any whole villages _today_.

“Young Gohan has explained the situation.” Moori seemed determined to look anywhere but at Vegeta. He wasn’t granting any of that selfish man’s wishes, after all. “We as a people, are indebted to you all, especially the one known as Son Goku.” The Namekians weren’t particularly indebted to Chi-Chi or the Ox-King, but they didn’t _massacre_ any of their people either. Moori would take what he could get. “We have already begun gathering the Dragon Balls and should be ready to summon Porunga within a few hours. Would you care to follow me? We may not eat food, but we can make something resembling Earth tea. I’ll admit to developing a fondness for it while we stayed with you.” He glanced surreptitiously at the Saiyan prince again, who in turn, rolled his eyes. Vegeta didn’t care at all if the invitation wasn’t meant for him. He was tired, and endured a week plus long trip into space with company he wanted to escape after ten minutes, and he was going to get some damn tea. If that offended the old Namekians delicate sensibilities, that was his problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like writing Vegeta. He's at an interesting crossroads here—just beginning to care for his family (and not yet realizing it) and maybe starting to accept that there are consequences for senseless killing of the innocents. Not that he cares about those consequences, but baby steps!
> 
> I might also be having a tad too much fun with Chi-Chi's mood swings. I can't help it though—I find her hilarious when she's _not_ pregnant!


	6. It's Awkward for Everyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group settles down for tea time with Namekian villagers and the conversation inevitably turns to the making of babies.

As it turned out, Namekian tea was spectacularly delicious; similar to Chamomile in flavor, but sweet on its own, and a startlingly blue color. Chi-Chi thought it was the best thing since sliced bread and asked Moori if she could perhaps take some clippings of the plant they made it from with her, even offering to trade some of her cherished nausea relieving stash of loose dried tea. She was confident that she could grow them on Earth; she had quite the green thumb, and there wasn’t much that _wouldn’t_ grow in the ridiculously fertile soil on Mt. Paozu.

Moori for his part, was delighted to share a piece of Namekian culture with the small human woman, and in turn, to receive some real Earth tea. But mostly, he was fascinated with the baby Trunks. Namekian babies didn’t stay small for very long, and developed much more quickly, all at once. He found it a joy to watch the tiny baby figure out his world, as if a piece at a time. Even if that piece of his world was a priceless art; the child was scaling an obelisk that had been given to the elder by one of the very few artisans left versed in pottery craft with the care of a tiny, drunk, bear. It would have been worrying, except for how adorable it was. And Ox-King’s boisterous laughter was infectious.

It was rather pleasant and awkward-free until Bulma decided that Vegeta was a better rock climbing surface than Moori’s art collection and one of the villagers innocently asked how the child could possibly belong to both of them (which really, was a legitimate question, even for those versed in bi-gendered reproduction). The fair-haired genius was sharply reminded of her first meeting with Goku as a child, and how painfully _weird_ it had been to try to explain to the kid the…..differences between genders, and mentally declared she wasn’t going to be the one to break out the flow charts for another species. Unbeknownst to her, Chi-Chi was having disturbingly similar thoughts remembering the early days of her marriage. Goku was sweet and enthusiastic, but rather clueless about the whole thing. Oh, she missed him.

As Chi-Chi blushed, losing herself to memories, Bulma stubbornly determined against explaining, Vegeta’s head would have exploded if he'd had the responsibility, and Gohan wasn’t particularly equipped (nor interested), it was left to Ox-King to explain the basics of the “birds and the bees” to the curious Namekian villagers. To Gohan’s ultimate mortification, his grandfather opted to include him in the educational discussion, reasoning that he needed to know eventually anyway. Vegeta and Bulma managed to escape the demented story time with Trunks under the guise of needing to do _something_ (they didn't specify what) with the baby. A disgruntled Gohan glared at the door where he could hear Bulma’s hysterical laughter. She had already disabused him of the idea that a couple had to be married (or even dating) to have a child together; it hardly surprised him that she’d abandon him to further mental corruption and embarrassment. While usually, he’d assume his mother was prone to overreacting, Gohan decided that she was right in this case: Bulma Briefs was in fact, a terrible influence.

Since absolutely no one in the room (least of all young Gohan) wanted to discuss actual sex or who had what parts with which to _have_ sex, the conversation stayed almost entirely on human women and their unique ability to carry and give birth to babies. (Human, or in this case, Saiyan men’s contribution to the process was left vaguely to “sharing genetic material” to the relief of everyone involved). Unsurprisingly, the attention at that point shifted to Chi-Chi, who allowed Moori and the other Namekian villagers present to feel for the small developing ki in her midsection after assuring them that she wasn’t going to spit up an egg or drop a live baby on the floor any time soon.

After his mother shared more anecdotes about what it was like to be pregnant with Gohan than the long-suffering boy thought he should ever have been exposed to, the villagers who were collecting the Dragon Balls announced that they were ready to summon Porunga. Sighing in palpable relief, Gohan wondered if he’d be forgiven for using one of the wishes to erase his memory of everything that had been said on this trip. Maybe the whole previous month, for good measure. Really, no one could blame him. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I wasn't uploading this as I wrote it, I might split these chapters up differently. As it is, here's a short chapter with no actual dialogue whatsoever.


	7. If Wishes Were Fishes, We'd Probably Have More to Eat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chi-Chi makes her wish, amends her wish, and yells a lot.

Porunga was HUGE. Chi-Chi had seen Shenlong before, even if she’d never asked the dragon for anything directly. But he was a lot closer to what she’d expected a dragon to look like than this! Generally speaking, she was not an easily intimidated woman, but part of her felt like the little girl who once ran screaming from T-rexes outside her village. And she had an inkling that she had fared a lot better against those dinosaurs than she might if she decided to take on an ancient, magical, (HUGE!) eternal, wish-granting dragon. Still, she had a wish to make, and childhood fear of giant reptiles aside, she was going to make it.

Composing herself, when she spoke, it was with all the grace and respect a princess with a thick country accent could muster. “I would like ta wish for my husband, Son Goku, ta be brought backta life, please.” She waited patiently for Moori to translate the wish to the dragon in his native language, hands clasped together in anticipation. It had never occurred to her that she might be denied.

It hadn’t occurred to Gohan either. Gohan could count on one _finger_ the number of times his father actually denied his mother something she really wanted. Even when the fate of the world was at stake, the man sought his wife’s _permission_ to save it. He even acquiesced to her more ridiculous requests (the most notable of which Piccolo also was roped into and resulted in more stringent pre-testing regulations at the local driving school). He had never once flat out refused to do something she had asked for in the young boy’s memory (and he had a _very good memory)._ Turning wide, panicked eyes towards his mother, Gohan wondered if the fabric of the universe was crumbling or was very shortly going to start. While Goku had denied this particular wish before (and it was sort of no surprise that he wouldn’t have changed his mind after a few months being dead; he could be quite stubborn after all), Chi-Chi hadn’t been there to argue the point the first time. In retrospect, that was probably on purpose. Before his brain could short circuit from the stress, Gohan pondered semi-deliriously, if this time, _he simply didn’t know who was asking._

The ensuing shriek of pure, feral rage followed by a string of obscenities and inventive insults that left even Vegeta wondering if he should be taking notes, was a sure sign that he would soon.

If the Northern Kai had been paying attention to his domain, the spectacle that was developing on New Namek would have been better than any daytime drama he could access in this life or the next. Since he had no particular reason to be following the lives of people who, aside from their connection to Son Goku, would be relatively insignificant in the grand scheme of things (especially since the aforementioned trouble-magnet was where he could keep an eye on him), the Northern Kai was completely blind-sided by Chi-Chi’s second-choice wish, leaving him to scramble to locate the suddenly absent but definitely-still-dead Goku.

Goku’s own confusion for his forced immediate relocation was quickly upgraded to sheer terror at the sight of his wife’s enraged face. Over the course of his life, he’d had many (mostly unsuccessful) lessons in inter-personal relationships from his friends (mostly Bulma) involving confusing nuances that he never did quite understand. One particular life lesson he learned very shortly after getting married, however, stuck with him: that expression on that face was _bad news._ It didn’t matter that he couldn’t die (being already dead), basic survival instinct kicked in his fight or flight response with a force no actual life threatening situation actually could. He might have considered fleeing—he had the power to go anywhere in the universe instantly, but Chi-Chi still had two wishes left (and if she made him come back a second time, it would be _so much worse_ ). On the other hand, this was a conversation he was hoping to _never_ have. In the end, he hesitated long enough for his wife to initiate the most thorough dressing down anyone alive (or dead) had ever received.

“DO YA HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YA’VE PUT US THROUGH?! LEAVING US ALONE WHEN YA COULD’VE COME BACK ANY TIME?!! _REFUSIN’ TA COME BACK!”_

Hanging his head and blushing to his ears, Goku did his best to look sheepish. It did little to take the wind out of his irate, tiny wife’s exceedingly large (and painfully loud) sails.

“YA HAVE A FAMILY! RESPONSIBILITIES!”

At this, he perked up slightly to defend himself. “I know, but Chi-Chi, tha’s why—“

“RESPONSIBILITIES HERE! NOT IN SPACE,” (no one in the group wanted in that moment to correct her regarding their location) “NOT IN THE AFTERLIFE, NOT TA THE PLANET OR UNIVERSE OR WHEREVER ELSE—TA YER _**FAMILY!**_ TO US!” 

“It’s because of that—“

“YA GO CAVORTIN’ OFF TO WHO KNOWS WHERE, GETTIN’ INTO FIGHTS, GETTIN’ OUR _SON_ INTO FIGHTS!! GETTIN’ YERSELF _KILLED!”_

The nervous, placating hands and obvious discomfort he displayed in response had often enough to calm her down in the past (he was incredibly cute and thus hard to stay mad at), but this was tantamount to suggesting he _leave her._ That realization, coupled with her raging hormones, gave way to something much more dangerous than fury: _tears._

Her watering eyes cut Goku to the core. He never had any defenses against her crying—another life lesson he learned early in married life (and wasn’t she good at teaching him things?) But he couldn’t go down that train of thought; he couldn’t think about how much he…

“LEAVING ME AN’ GOHAN ALL ALONE! AN’ WITH A BABY ON THE WAY! WHAT WERE YA THINKIN’?”

Goku blinked slowly, several times. Opened his mouth, closed it, and tilted his head. “Chi-Chi, wha—?”

“THE TOURNAMENT WINNIN’S WON’ KEEP US AFLOAT FOREVER, YA KNOW! AN’ NOW, WITH ANOTHER MOUTH TA FEED!”

“About that—“

“WE NEEDJA NOW MOREN’ EVER! AND YA WANNA _STAY DEAD?!”_

“I don’t wanna be dead; really, I thought it was for the best, but about the—“ 

“FOR THE BEST? FOR THE _BEST?!!_ YA WON’ EVEN SEE YER SECOND CHILD BORN!”

Goku considered this for several moments, while blinking stupidly and gaping like a fish. “You’re…you’re gonna have a baby?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goku and Chi-Chi are both pretty socially inept, aren't they? Oh, Son Family ~<3
> 
> This chapter was pretty hard for me to write (part of why it took so long). It's much easier for me to write descriptive/action prose than dialogue for whatever reason—and this chapter was pretty dialogue-heavy. Plus, keeping Chi-Chi's accent consistent requires multiple re-reads (spellchecker isn't fond of "ta" or "yer"). I promise I won't leave you in the middle of this conversation for weeks though! I'll really try to get back to weekly updates. 
> 
> Your Kudos and Comments are appreciated—they make my day brighter! (and guilt me into writing!) <3


	8. Fluff + Angst = Flangst?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goku and Chi-Chi have a Serious Talk™

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to keep the overall tone humorous, but this was basically impossible to write without _some_ [flangst?](http://archiveofourown.org/tags/Flangst*q*) (Yes, that is a thing. I did not make this up)

Sometime during the stunted, awkward silence following Chi-Chi’s tirade, Ox-King used his impressive girth to bulldoze the remaining gawking crowd into Elder Moori’s house, figuring the couple could use some privacy in the midst of their marital dispute. (And what a marvel, he reflected, for rising from the dead to be the subject a mere marital dispute!) Vegeta shouted something about also having words for Kakarrot, but Ox-King in full dad-mode was not to be deterred, giving the other man his best warlord-turned-soccer-dad-and-that’s-my-baby-girl face. Gohan was mostly grateful, since if he’d been home, he would’ve hidden in his room. Or the woods. Or anywhere else, really.

Goku’s surprised shout of “But I’ve been dead!” just before Ox-King shut the door behind them all illuminated an aspect of Bulma’s friend she’d secretly wondered about since she’d first seen him with his four-year-old son: Goku actually _did_ understand the particulars of the birds and the bees.

Chi-Chi punched her husband in the side of the head (it couldn’t possibly have hurt him, but he clutched the appendage in surprise anyway). “Of course, is’yers, ya moron!” She was both offended and annoyed that he’d inadvertently suggest such a thing, but taking in his confused, shell-shocked, and wounded expression (still cradling his head in his hands as though it could cushion his injured pride), she knew she couldn’t continue to yell at him. In her mind, she had pictured letting Goku in on it more gently, or even romantically. Like the picnic on Mt. Paozu when she told him about Gohan; full of joy and wonder (and perhaps some questions about human anatomy she had not been prepared to answer). Not while shouting over his already cowering and terrified posture (as though making himself small was some kind of defense mechanism). As tempting as it was to beat her point into his brain, she couldn’t really resort to meaningless violence (not because she wasn’t inclined to hit him again, but she’d be more liable to break her hand than his face on another attempt). Instead, she sighed. “I’m abou’ three months along now.”

Goku’s eyes widened. That was right before…

Fidgeting with the waistline of her Cheongsam (it was already uncomfortable to wear a belt) and resting her hands on her still small, but growing bump, Chi-Chi let the ghost of a smile grace her face. “I’m gonna have a baby, Goku. _We’re_ gonna have a baby.” Her eyes stayed on her hands rather than his face; she was afraid that if she took in his expression (which she was sure resembled an injured puppy), she’d cave to what he wanted, as she usually did at this point in their discussions, should they make it this far. Though, usually, tears weren’t falling free down her cheeks during these kinds of disagreements. “At the end of Winter—near the New Year’s Festival.” Her voice was trembling; her whole body was trembling, but she had to get through to him. She had to make him stay. “Ya love goin’ ta the Festival in the village. With Pa. And Gohan.” _And me. And the new baby._

Chi-Chi’s cracked smile and tear-stained face was nearly enough to undo Goku completely. It made him want to cradle her gently in his arms and promise her anything she wanted. It made him want to throw himself prostrate on the ground and beg forgiveness. He wanted to swear that he’d always, always be there and would never, ever make her cry again. Forget that he’d gotten a god killed and that his own permanent death was practically his agreed upon punishment. Never mind that the greatest threats to the planet (and sometimes the universe) came looking for him, and staying dead was the best way he could protect everyone. 

Chi-Chi was crying _real tears_ and he was willing to do anything to make it stop.

Taking the five steps towards his distraught wife and lightly touching her shoulder felt like the bravest thing he’d ever done.

“Goku…?” Biting her quivering lip, Chi-Chi finally looked up into her husband’s concerned face and promptly lost it. Pounding on his chest with furious, tiny (but frighteningly powerful) fists and bawling her eyes out, she managed, “Ya promised!” between sobs, “Ya said” and hiccups, “ya wouldn’ die!” until she was blubbering too incoherently to be understood.

Wincing at each impact and body-wracking sob, the Earth-raised Saiyan concentrated his senses on his small (strong, _beautiful)_ human wife. Kneading soothing circles into her shoulders with his thumbs, he focused on her ki with an intensity usually reserved for Instantaneous Transmission. The developing life-force was easy enough to locate, reacting to her violent, fluctuating emotions; still a part of hers, but with the timbre of his own.

It was true.

A thousand thoughts raced through his head at once. He had assumed he knew what he was sacrificing when he’d agreed to stay dead; that he’d known it would be unfair to his wife and son…but this? This changed _everything._

When Goku looked up to the ominously blackened sky blinking back tears of his own and requested his life be restored to him, Porunga granted it without the aid of a Namekian translation (if only because the giant, magic reptile was rather done with the affairs of mortals at this point and wanted to _go home)._

When Vegeta inevitably burst out of the Elder Moori’s house in his impatience, demanding a fight with the other man over his stupidity, and ultimately ruining a tear-filled reunion between husband and wife, Chi-Chi fixed him with such a glare that in a moment of clarity, he understood why she was so feared. That, and she threatened to leave him there when she wished them all back to Earth if he didn’t march himself back inside and _wait._ Porunga’s eternal, booming, chuckle at his expense and Bulma’s _shit-eating_ grin when he did just that almost made him consider letting her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Porunga has important dragon things to do.
> 
> Since he's come barreling into this story, I've discovered that Goku is actually hard for me to write. He kept trying to go waaaaaaaaay OOC and into super fluffy territory. I tried my best to restrain him (I rewrote pieces of this scene multiple times), but he might still be a little...much? (His head is hard to get in to okay?) Really though, I kind feel bad for the poor guy. Talk about emotional whiplash.
> 
> Also, Vegeta refused to be left out of this chapter. He got what he deserved for intruding, no?


	9. Strongest Person in the Universe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chi-Chi isn't letting Goku out of her sight, even for a trip to see North Kai. Don't worry though, they left Gohan in Piccolo's capable hands.

It wasn’t until several hours later, with everyone safely back at Capsule Corporation enjoying an impromptu catered buffet hosted by Panchy Briefs (and Vegeta less-than-silently fuming over his ship having been conveniently left behind by “that harpy woman’s” wish), that Goku remembered about the Northern Kai at all (he also remembered that they technically hadn’t needed the wish at all to get back, but he was never, ever going to mention that to the other Saiyan). 

Really, he’d just meant to go apologize for the disappearing act, but the second Chi-Chi saw him start to concentrate, she slapped his fingers from his forehead faster than he’d known she could move. 

“Goku! Just where do ya think yer going’?!” Eyes shining dangerously, and single, shaking fist raised in an obviously threatening gesture, his wife looked every bit the picture of what he imagined to sit next to “terrifying” in the dictionary.

“Um…I need ta go let Lord Kai know where I went and—“

“Ya wanna go back to the afterlife?! I JUST got ya back ta Earth!” 

Chi-Chi, for her part, just didn’t trust her husband not to go Instantaneously Transmit himself somewhere and accidentally die saving the universe in the process. So, quite logically, she decided he wasn’t going to be going anywhere without supervision to prevent such typical self-sacrifice (it didn’t matter that there wasn’t current any kind of threat warranting his attention; he was apt to _find_ trouble if left to his own devices). More specifically, _her_ supervision.

Of course, they didn’t want to leave Gohan in West City by himself to deal with the irritable Vegeta and the eternally blasé Briefs family during a trip to the afterlife (they both oddly agreed that would be irresponsible parenting), so they dropped him off at the Lookout to study with Dende, making Piccolo promise to keep an eye on him. Bewildered, the former demon king was left pondering if being spontaneously roped into “baby-sitting” duty was payback for having kidnapped Gohan as a child to make him train.

After hours of frantic searching, the god presiding over the Northern part of the universe nearly had a heart attack when his wayward charge showed up at the Kai’s not-yet-broken temporary house with his wife, of all people. He had never taken the chance to analyze the tiny human woman, though he had often wondered what kind of person could manage to be married to the hyperactive, training-track-minded Saiyan without going insane.

“H’lo, Lord Kai!” The aforementioned warrior resembled a scolded child more than a savior of the universe; one hand scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment, the other firmly in the grip of his wife’s.

Eyebrows twitching, the hand that Chi-Chi wasn’t using to hold on to Goku collided with the side of his head. “Goku! Manners!”

He started with “My bad!”, but the glare he received forced him to revise to “I mean, I’m super, duper sorry!”

“Honestly! How old do ya think ya are?”

Rubbing at the spot Chi-Chi had just hit him with his free hand and pouting, Goku looked……impossibly pathetic. The Kai had never seen him so abashed, not even when _he_ had been scolding him (and he was a _god!_ Sometimes scolding him about his behavior towards other _higher gods)._ It was amusing to watch. It almost felt like payback for all the time Goku had basically brushed him off. 

And then he noticed the halo was missing.

Pointing disbelievingly at the spot over the man’s head where earlier that day there was most assuredly proof of his death, the North Kai stuttered “Ahhhh! Goku! Are you alive?!”

When both turned to look at him as though they’d forgotten he was there, blinking, he took back his earlier sentiment. This was a thousand times worse than being ignored by Goku alone. Seriously, did _no one_ respect his divinity? The other Kais were bad enough (and he’d long since categorized Goku as “force of nature” rather than a mere mortal over whom he had any kind of providence), but he was still a god! Unfortunately for the North Kai, that seemed to mean about as much to Chi-Chi as it did her husband.

“Um, well, about that…”

“Goku couldn’ stay dead! He has ta support tha baby!” The woman wore an expression fierce enough to go to battle with, hands on her hips, and her much taller husband keeping a few paces behind her, looking amazingly…..obedient. Honestly, it was a little creepy.

Wait, _baby?_

“Your son is hardly a baby; he just fought Cell—“

Those fierce (and somewhat intimidating) eyes swirled to his once student with laser precision. “I toldja not to let ‘im fight, didn’ I?! Our Dear Gohan is _precious._ And you! Makin’ ‘im fight MONSTERS!!!!”

“But Chi-Chi, it really was the only way—“

“Ya spent THREE YEARS trainin’ to prepare. I was watchin’ ya know! I saw ya!”

“Gohan’s amazing—“

“Gohan is gonna be a SCHOLAR!” If it were possible, her gaze intensified, eyes narrowing on their target. “And yer gonna getta JOB to support tha new baby!”

It was at that moment that Goku seemed to remember what he’d come to do in the first place.

“Oh, right! Chi-Chi’s gonna have a baby!” Grinning like nothing in the world (or universe, or afterlife, for that matter) bothered him, or was going to deter him in his path the slightest, Son Goku announced the upcoming birth of his second child to a god.

A god who, after watching the couple interact for five minutes, came to the conclusion that Chi-Chi didn’t have any sanity to lose after all, and that Goku was probably better off in her hands than his anyway (she, at least, seemed to be able to keep him somewhat in line). 

So he let them go on their merry way with his blessing, such as it was (but not before making Goku promise to wish him, Gregory, and Bubbles back to life with a newer, bigger planet (with a race track!) the next time the Dragon Balls were available).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Piccolo is totes gonna have to baby-sit Goten too. A Namek's introduction to human/saiyan POOP? HAH. 
> 
> I watched DBSuper episode 15 twice while writing this chapter. It was PERFECT. (If you haven't seen it, I won't spoil it, but Chi-Chi is BAMF bossy and I love it).
> 
> Goku's getting easier to write, but only if I'm not trying to analyse his thoughts.....if Goku is thinking too hard, he's not Goku, I guess xD


	10. Meanwhile, Back on Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Son Family gathers their Fall harvest together and cuteness ensues.
> 
> ...then it all goes to shit.

As the season shifted into cooler weather and Chi-Chi’s belly expanded, she was immensely grateful that she’d decided to chase after her husband when she had. While the nausea had mostly passed, interplanetary space flight hardly sounded appealing (or safe) at this point in a pregnancy. If she’d wavered on her decision….

If she’d wavered, would she have gone after the baby was born; traipsing through space with machine guns and a papoose? Or would she have not gone at all; caring for her new infant as a lonely mother of two? Would she have accepted Goku’s death eventually, given time?

Looking out across the field to where father and son were apparently dancing around a large pumpkin instead of helping with the Autumn harvest (though if she were being honest, the sight was more endearing than irritating), she was intensely glad she wouldn’t have to find out. Life was brighter with Goku around; that carefree, innocent naivety he managed to carry with him to adulthood shining brilliantly despite the trials he had endured in his relatively short life. Anyone else might have become cynical or bitter, but Goku still smiled genuinely, seemingly unaffected by the horrors of the world (many of which he’d witnessed firsthand). She might nag him for his oblivious nature at times when it proved inconvenient, but secretly, she loved that part of him most of all.

Though, since it meant that at six months pregnant, she was alone in actually doing any field work, he was definitely going to get called out on it.

“Whaddya’ll doin’?” Both heads snapped instantly in Chi-Chi’s direction, taking in her posture: casually leaning against her overwhelmingly full sack of fall vegetables with her arms crossed and her eyebrows furrowed. 

Comically, they both turned to view their own sad yields of crops, and simultaneously panicked. With the precision and speed (and priority) required to diffuse a bomb, the Saiyan men in her life gathered the remaining portion of the field as fast as they could without transforming (and risking her ire over their supposed delinquency and/or needlessly destroying otherwise healthy vegetables). It wasn’t as graceful or as careful as she would have liked (plants were delicate!), but it did get the job done and that meant they could go home. She was tired, her back was killing her, and her feet were getting too fat for her shoes. Not that she’d admit that to anyone, ever. (She had a reputation as the world’s strongest woman to keep up!)

Goku, though oblivious to many things, was fairly keyed in to his wife’s moods and general well-being. He noticed when her hands lingered on her lower back, massaging the sore muscle there; saw her face scrunch up the slightest when she’d walk forward; knew instinctively that her center of gravity was disrupting her usual impeccable balance. He could tell that she was both uncomfortable and fatigued, and too stubborn to admit to either. 

So when he casually picked up Chi-Chi’s sack of vegetables and made to carry it on top of his, she of course, groused about it. “I’m notta helpless damsel in distress, Goku! I can carry mah own sack! Been doin’ it fer years jus’ fine!”

Having already anticipated this reaction (and feeling inordinately pleased with himself for doing so ahead of time), he simply patted his own belly, jovially and replied, “You’re already carrin’ the weight of two, Chi. I can do the same.” And he winked at her. _Winked!_

Somewhat amazed that her husband of ten years could still fluster her, she dropped the issue, blushing mildly. That smile though! How could she resist his charms?

When he called the Nimbus about a quarter of the way back to their dwelling and insisted she ride it the remaining distance, though, she found a way.

“I’m jus’ pregnant, not an invalid!” was becoming something of a constant mantra for her. The bigger she got, the more paranoid her husband got. Goku seemed afraid she might break somehow. Like she was fragile.

Like _Hell_ was she fragile.

Feeling as though she had Something to Prove, Chi-Chi obstinately walked next to the family’s resident magic, orange cloud, nose in the air. She could handle a small hike! (And she did just fine, really!) Until about the halfway point, when she felt a wetness in her underclothes a split second before the scent of blood hit the air, discernible only to the sensitive Saiyan noses of her husband and son.

Who promptly Freaked Out.

She spent the remainder of the trip on the cloud trying to sit as comfortably as possible to avoid any further strain on her system, pointedly ignoring the fear gripping her heart (the baby!) while attempting to calm her frantic male companions; torn between moving as fast as they could (and maybe jostling her too much) or moving too slow (she could bleed to death!). It was as nerve-wracking as that time Gohan’s cradle went spiraling out of control and he flew head-first through an apple tree. She hoped the outcome would be just as relieving in the aftermath. _Everything would be fine._ It had to be.

Later, while she was being confined to temporary bed-rest by her somewhat disheveled midwife (who was definitely not used to being _flown_ at such speeds. By other people!), Chi-Chi reflected that maybe trying to do everything as she normally would hadn’t been the best idea. Some scary concepts were thrown around she hadn’t previously considered (hypertension! miscarriage! preterm labor!) and from Goku’s expression, gathered that he hadn’t known were _things._

After an hour or so of being confined to bed, alone, visions of her family dying horrible deaths resulting from her imposed restriction sprang to mind: starving in the winter from not preserving the harvest properly, the house burning down from Goku’s well-meaning but destructive attempts at what he called cooking, freezing naked in the snow because there was no clean laundry…..the myriad of ways her household could crumble!

Nesting instinct kicked in full force and she intended to take care of everything, _immediately._ The second she made to sit up however, she found a large, familiar hand on her chest (halting her movement) and a determined look on her husband’s face.

Chi-Chi groaned, internally. He was going to be _impossible_ for the remainder of her pregnancy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goten is okay, guys! Don't worry!
> 
> It's just that, everyone insists that Chi-Chi got knocked up in the week before the Cell Games. This is generally accepted fanon, if not canon (really too much earlier than that, and they would have _known_ beforehand). And the Cell Games happen in May. Goten is born before the end of the same year. Since Saiyan babies are pretty well developed (enough to conquer planets!), it's unlikely that they would have a shorter gestation period than humans (if anything, it'd probably be _longer_ ). By human standards alone, even if he's born on the _last day of the year_ , he'd still be a preemie by at least a month.
> 
> This has always bothered me. 
> 
> Generally speaking, it's _not a good thing_. Certainly not the end of the world, but still terrifying. And it seems like NO ONE EVER TALKS ABOUT IT in fic. Sometimes, scary stuff happens in pregnancy for no reason. No accident or event, it just happens. But it'll all work out okay here. Even if Ox-King has to come rescue them from starvation and dirty laundry.  <3
> 
> Then, we can get back to our regularly scheduled program of tormenting Vegeta and Gohan with things they did not need or want to know about women.
> 
> *As a side, my confining my darling Chi-Chi to bed is not a reflection of her needing to be "saved" or "damseling" her. If you've ever known a woman whose had to spend a portion of a pregnancy on bed-rest....trust me, they ain't weak.
> 
> **I'm trying to keep this light and humorous, but there's some angst needed to get through. Hang on there—we'll get back to the funny! <3 you guys!


	11. The Joys of Late Night Phone Calls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma gets a call at 3am.

Sometime after the introduction of Goku's Instant Transmission technique to the group's everyday life, Bulma saw fit, in her infinite wisdom, to gift the man with a cell phone. (Then promptly insisted that he _call_ first before using his shiny new teleportation magic to visit, lest he home in on Vegeta randomly, and see something he really would rather not (or at least _she_ would rather he not see). The jury was out on whether that might affect him at all, but Bulma was relatively certain it would damage her for life (and more pressingly, her sex life). She of course, worded it differently for his sake—saying something like "Prince Ass-face might be in space, or the middle of the desert, or (shockingly) in the gravity room, turned up to extremes you wouldn't want to teleport into without warning." And felt every bit the brilliant mind she was for her tactful phrasing. But from the knowing smirk and mirth in his eyes she received in reply, she needed have bothered. Still trying to reconcile in her mind that weird and grossly under-socialized, monkey-tailed kid she found in the woods _knew what sex was_ years after he'd gotten married and had a child....well. Bulma wasn't going to touch that one with an infinitely extending pole).

The first time he broke her incredibly thoughtful gift, Bulma reflected that she should really have seen that coming and shaking her head, replaced it without much thought. Cell phones broke all of the time, even in the more mindful and relatively weak hands of normal humans. The second time, which was within days of the first replacement, she questioned the sanity of the gesture. She couldn't truly be mad, since it meant he actually bothered to carry it with him places (but sparring with it in his pocket? really??). The third time he showed up, sheepishly dangling a mangled piece of plastic with a shattered screen, the stubborn scientist decided she was simply going to have to invent wireless technology that could survive her meat-head friend's abuse.

_So she did._

The resulting innocuous looking flip phone was simple in design and very, very sturdy. It was almost a shame that she couldn't actually market the Saiyan-proof phone to the masses, since it heavily utilized the fabrication of materials found in Vegeta's armor and thus, was technically, alien in origin. Still, it was a glorious little invention that Goku hadn't managed to break once. Bulma felt like a _goddess._

Less so, when her own (of course she kept one for herself!) started ringing incessantly at three in the morning late into December. Lavender hair in a spectacular demonstration of bed-head and having gotten a mere four hours of sleep, Bulma was sorely tempted not to answer. She could pretend she hadn't heard it. She could pretend she left it in another room. She could pretend she didn't see Vegeta next to her in bed, covered only by thin sheets (and if any chance it were Goku calling.....)

So naturally, it was Goku calling.

Cursing under her breath, she threw a robe on her exhausted body and picked up the phone, cradling it against her exhausted ear, mentally prepping her exhausted head for what was surely to be the dumbest of phone conversations anyone on Earth had ever been forced to suffer through. Bulma had not at all been prepared for it to actually have been important. The frenetic, frightened wailing that came through on the other end was so unlike her friend that her first thought was that his phone had somehow been stolen by a crazy homeless person. But there were some words she could make out, mainly "Chi-Chi" and "baby" that identified the speaker quite clearly. It was indeed Goku, and he was _terrified._

After several minutes of trying to understand what was being said and unsuccessfully getting a word in edge-wise, Vegeta snapped the phone from her grumpily and attempted to crush it. Remembering that it was one of her stupid, special, _durable_ phones, the disgruntled prince swore loudly and brought the ear piece to his face. "What **IS** it, Kakarrot?"

Goku was so startled by Vegeta basically admitting that he shared a room with Bulma that he forgot momentarily that he was freaking out and managed to relay the situation semi-effectively to his rival.

"I'll call you back in five minutes. WAIT until then." Vegeta ground out before snapping the phone shut, hanging up on the other clearly distraught man. Tossing the offending object back to Bulma, he ordered, "Get dressed. Now. We need to be downstairs in five minutes." Before she had a chance to become irritated, he added, "Unless you want that buffoon to teleport himself and his whole family here while you're naked." 

"Why would they be—?"

Vegeta, already sporting pants, cut her off to save time. "His wife requires medical attention." Scrunching his nose in distaste as he added a tank top to his frame, Bulma could tell there was something he wasn't saying. Recalling bits of what she'd heard before Vegeta rudely ripped the phone from her grasp, she pieced two-and-two together and moved with greater speed and purpose to clothe herself than she ever had in her life (the speed with which she was skilled in _removing_ clothing was another matter). Trailing after her (whatever Vegeta was to her...her boyfriend? Her baby-daddy?) with a shirt half pulled over her head, and one arm out of its sleeve, Bulma didn't even bother to ask where downstairs they were going. She knew.

Chi-Chi. The baby. They needed to be in the medical wing. Now.

Thankful she had a full on-call staff of medically trained professionals (who had signed very thorough NDAs) on her payroll, she dialed the number to the doctor who had delivered Trunks. It might not be as natural or low key an experience as Chi-Chi no doubt would prefer, but she was going to have to deal. 

Finally finding the arm hole for the sleeve of her shirt, the oft under-appreciated genius stifled a yawn. There was not enough caffeine, nicotine, and/or alcohol that would get Bulma through this night in one piece. She was sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to get this finished quickly so I can move onto my Nano project. And that's why I spent most of a chapter to explain why Goku would have a cell phone.
> 
> I am officially ridiculous.
> 
> *NDA = Non-Disclosure Agreement


	12. Arrival Numbers One Through Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Son Family arrives at Capsule Corporation with Chi-Chi in labor. The onsite nurse on staff doesn't know what to think of the magic, teleporting and levitating people in the reception area. But he does know what to do with the medical emergency that's presented itself. He'll just focus on that.

The onsite staff in Capsule Corporation's Medical Wing between the hours of 8:00 pm and 6:00 am was limited to a single emergency room nurse from West City Metropolitan Hospital. The nurses who had the privilege to do what amounted to essentially nothing on one or more of their late night hospital shifts had come to think of these shifts, while ten hours in length, as "time off", weird stipulations imposed by them on the very wealthy Briefs family aside. Most of them thought the affluent family was just paranoid of paparazzi exposure; it was a simple enough explanation for the generous bonus package they received along with the bizarrely specific contracts they signed upon acceptance of the position. Just how closely guarded was it a secret that Mr. Vegeta (whom any of them who had the pleasure of treating at one point or another could agree was strange at best, and a potentially homicidal psycho at worst) was the father of Ms. Briefs' son? Surely that bit of juicy knowledge the press would no doubt, love to get a hold of, didn't warrant an entire clause in the NDA they'd signed. It was like they weren't allowed to admit the guy _existed._

The onsite nurse on Monday nights wasn't thinking about any of that though; he was _bored._ Xander had gotten into nursing to help people; he was passionate about it. Despite the long hours and lack of regard for his position by the general population, he loved what he did. And the nights where he spent doing _nothing_ holed up on the premises of Capsule Corp felt like a waste of time. It was only the extra money he was interested in; he was paying off his student loans from nursing school at a fantastic rate and could hopefully propose to his longtime girlfriend and college sweetheart soon. He really didn't need or want the "time off". He wanted to be at the hospital, helping people.

So it was somewhat fortuitous that he was working on a night where there was an actual, real, honest-to-goodness medical emergency.

When Vegeta walked briskly through the doors in the early morning hours of December 30th, Xander half-glanced up from the catalog of expensive engagement rings he was sifting through expecting the man to have some nonsense, likely self-inflicted injury from what he'd been known to call his "training". When Bulma trailed in behind him looking more disheveled than probably anyone on Earth had ever seen her, the two had his full attention. Neither were paying the nurse much, however, fixated as they were on Ms. Briefs' cell phone.

"Dial the number already." Vegeta was as discourteous as he ever was. "Before Kakarrot loses his mind." 

Bulma seemed under the impression that she wasn't caffeinated enough to hit what turned out to be the redial button. "Goku? Hi, we're ready."

And the next thing Xander knew, four people had materialized out of thin air. 

Choking on his shock over this, it took the nurse several moments to realize that no one else in the room thought this was a special occurrence; even Ms. Briefs didn't bat a hypothetical eyelash. Stupefied, his overtaxed brain was only able to immediately comprehend that one of the people who'd transported in was _huge_ (he took up a good quarter of the small reception area on his own! And again, none of the other present occupants seemed to deign this an odd occurrence). The giant man might have kept his attention for longer if the next thing he hadn't noticed was that one of the _magically teleporting_ people was a heavily pregnant woman evidently bleeding all over the floor. The strangeness of the situation fled the young man's mind and he kicked into action before anyone had a chance to yell at him to do so. Unexpected though the situation may have been, Xander was in his element. He practically jumped over the counter in his rush to aid someone in real need.

"Are you her husband?" The average looking, nervous man nodded his head, tears at the corner of his strangely black eyes. "Help me get her on a bed will you?" The nurse gave a small smile to alleviate the tension some. This situation required calm above all else.

"Chi-Chi, Im'ma pick ya up now, okay?" The woman was clearly in pain, but wordlessly braced herself to be moved, all the while looking like she'd rather move herself. "Ya've lost a lot of blood, ya know." The man's tone was gentle, with a hint of exasperation, and a dash of underlying terror.

Before Xander had a chance to even mention that they had stretchers at their disposal, the man tenderly lifted his laboring pregnant wife bridal style without even a slight sign of exertion. Clearly, this dude worked out. Leading him back to the maternity room he had previously questioned the existence of, the nurse tried very hard to focus on remembering where the patient gowns were stored and not on the fact that the man wasn't jostling his precious cargo at all with his steps because he was _floating through the air._

Shaking his head of the impossibility, the young nurse decided to focus on the now in the event that this was _really happening_ (the other plausible explanation being that the Briefs family was trolling him with hallucinogenic drugs).

Ox-King watched his daughter and son-in-law disappear behind the patient door solemnly. The dangers of early labor and extensive bleeding were not lost on him, and his willful daughter's constant insistence of "no hospitals" and "no drugs" right up to the point they'd been transported did not bode well for his baby girl to have at all anything approaching a _good day._ It worried him how much pain she was going to suffer out of some hard-headed, stoic _need_ to prove how strong she was. But that had been how she had always been; doing things her own way. If he couldn't change that when she herself had been a child, he certainly wasn't going to have any success now. Sighing, he patted his fretting grandson on the head in a vain attempt to comfort him. "C'mon, Gohan buddy. Let's go an' sit. No sense in standin' aroun' worrin'." 

Gohan blinked up at his grandfather as if he'd forgotten he was there. In truth, he'd forgotten momentarily where he _himself_ was, concentrated as he was on the smell of blood and his mother's cries. (His father's ki signature exuding raw fear wasn't helping either). But bless Grampa for trying to distract him.

"Migh' as well sit while we wait, eh?" Ox-King directed Gohan towards the waiting area lightly with a hand on his back the _size_ of his back. "Look! They even have comfortable lookin' furniture!" The giant man then proceeded to plop himself into a couch that most likely had been designed for three or more people, situating Gohan on the arm rest. He wasn't at all surprised when the boy leaned into his shoulder and wept. He'd always been a sensitive boy, after all. Wrapping his large beefy arm around him like a blanket, Ox-King resigned himself to waiting on the sidelines with his young grandson. If he put his efforts into being a comforting presence for Gohan, he might just be able to somewhat tune out Chi-Chi's still audible cries of pain from the other room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I invented an OC for this chapter! Bulma and her father, brilliant though they may be, are not doctors of medicine. I really do wonder how much they're shelling out in what pretty much amounts to hush money to these staffers though. Good thing they're really, really rich!
> 
> Also, if you missed domestic!Ox-King, he's back for a brief interlude. I love than man, seriously.
> 
> And don't worry, everyone, Chi-Chi and Goten will be _totally fine_. Goten has just decided to enter the world earlier than scheduled. (And really, as far as I am concerned, that's basically canon. The Cell Games happen in May. Goku does not know about Goten until he sees him seven years later. If Chi-Chi had been pregnant too much earlier than the Androids' arrival, she would have told Goku, and he would have known. Goten is born near the end of the year. May-- >December = 7 months. So, premie Goten.)
> 
> What isn't canon and is entirely made up by me for the purposes of this piece of writing is _Chi-Chi's_ condition. I'll be getting to that soon, but for the time being, know that I am not going to have her keel over in some cosmic twist of unfairness. She'll make it through this and won't be much worse for wear than a normal delivery. She will, however make it harder for herself by refusing medication. Because we all know Chi-Chi is a _crunchy mama._
> 
> Happy (and hopefully hilarious) times are ahead! We've just gotta get through a little bit more angst. Thanks for hanging in there and all of the reviews and kudos! You guys are the best! <3


	13. No One Likes the Hospital Experience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chi-Chi continues to refuse any kind of pain management and Goku gets a crash course in modern medicine as it pertains to childbirth. And the doctor arrives.

The doctor arrived within thirty minutes of Bulma's original call. A renowned Obstetrician and close personal friend of Mrs. Briefs, Dr. Caduceus had been the first on a very short list of doctors Bulma thought of during her own prenatal care. She was one of very few people who knew that Trunks had been born with a tail, and had already been apprised on the removal process so as to avoid spontaneous regrowth (even if she didn't know that was a benefit of the technique). Most of all, Bulma trusted her.

None of this was known to the remaining members of the room when Dr. Caduceus arrived at the Medical Wing. Upon entry, she found three pairs of male eyes fixed on her person in various shapes (and sizes!). Clearing her throat, she simply said, "Patient?" for maximum brevity.

Ox-King, as oldest kin present, nominated himself spokesperson on his family's behalf. "She's gone back wit' tha nurse." The word sounded weird in his mouth; the concept of a "nurse" at all was a strange one, let alone a male one. Out in the mountain villages, childbirth fell squarely in the realm of "women's work". But they were beyond the help of a midwife, at this point. And he should probably be providing more helpful information. "My daughter's tha patient. An' mah son-in-law's back there wit' her." he added, to ensure this doctor knew that Chi-Chi was a respectable woman, and then immediately choked down on a pang when it occurred to him how very nearly he might have had to explain that she had been a widow instead.

Gohan, having cried himself out for the time being, managed to ask, "You'll take care of Mom, right?" His eyes were wide and he hadn't appeared so much his actual age in some time as he did right then.

The doctor smiled lightly at him, but made no move to get closer. That would take too much time and this was an emergency. "I'll do what I can. Your mom's in the best hands she could be here." And then she whizzed through the patient doors about as fast as a normal human could move, not sparing any time for the brooding, silent man on the opposite end of the room.

As it turned out, Vegeta hadn't flown out of the room at the first available second after serving as a beacon for the Instantaneous Transmission that brought the Son Family like he'd originally planned to. Kakarrot's woman had given him the impression she was _dying._ He did not know Chi-Chi particularly well, but she had always appeared to be an incredibly fastidious individual. The woman could fly into a rage and throw knives or wield firearms (and cooking equipment) with practiced ease, chasing the subjects of her ire without allowing a hair out of place. Her clothing choices were particular, fabrics matched to the season and colors coordinately expertly. What had arrived in the waiting area this day was anything but tidy. She was sweaty, breathing hard, with hair a loose mess down her back, lower half of her clothing matted with blood, and was sporting what had to have been the largest tumor he had ever seen (and from the sounds she was making, it was agonizing). He suspected (without confirming with anyone else, as might be expected) that Chi-Chi was on her death bed and the child a lost cause; obviously mutated to cause such obscene malformation of the woman's torso. And that Kakarrot was about to lose two members of his clan. Vegeta was not normally sentimental, but he could bear witness to the other's warrior's grief. (Since he expressed this opinion to exactly no one, he would remain cluelessly waiting for a funeral for the remainder of the morning.)

Bulma certainly was in no position to correct his assumption. She'd followed after the Sons into the patient area, correctly guessing that she'd have to translate a majority of the nurse's prep questions and instructions to the couple (but mostly Goku). He'd also needed a lot of convincing that it was okay that the male nurse be in there while he helped Chi-Chi disrobe (or be in there at all; stupid, archaic witchcraft that passed for medicine they practiced in the middle of nowhere). They'd finished with the necessary triage and examination, confirming that this was, in fact, the real deal (and trying to explain how a full grown man poking his head and hands up Chi-Chi's immodest medical gown was okay to Goku was a _delightful_ treat. She must have done something horrible in a past life to deserve her lifelong designation as that dork’s sex-ed teacher.)

Goku wasn't sure if Chi-Chi was going to kill the guy or if he should. He was certain that were she not in her present condition, she'd beat the guy at least to within an inch of his life. If she were feeling merciful. And she most definitely did not presently appear to be in a generous mood.....

Thankfully, the (blessedly female) doctor breezed in, taking over before homicide of any kind could take place.

She quizzed the nurse on what had been discussed and done, and then proceeded to take a peek herself, bewildering Goku further. Who _were_ these people poking around down there? And why was Chi-Chi okay with this?! Why was _Bulma?_ She’d nearly torn his hand off for looking up her skirt in his childhood—and that was just innocent curiosity! Had it been like this when Gohan was born? (He hadn’t been allowed in the room at the time, relegated to the kitchen with his father-in-law, and therefore, had no idea what was involved in removal of the baby from his wife’s person.) Were city folks just _debauched?_

Meanwhile, Bulma had been slowly losing her mind over just how many secrets the odd bunch of people she called her friends and family had to potentially spill to the blissfully unaware humans in the room with them. The normally lighthearted Goku looked to be about ten seconds from going papa bear and growling at the nice humans to get the hell away from his wife. And impeccable control over his transformation he might claim to have, but if he blew a gasket, he’d probably turn into a glowing blonde radiating a neon sign cheerfully announcing “Dad from the Cell Games!” She’d have to give them at least a year’s salary for a high-level _engineer_ to keep _that_ headache quiet. It was for this reason, that as a rule, the heiress didn't like to involve outsiders when it came to emergency, life-threatening medical care, preferring to rely on healing tanks or senzu beans to hospitals. Nevertheless, one couldn't just _heal_ a pregnancy. Trying in this circumstance could actually be dangerous; Chi-Chi's body was in a state of flux, muscles and bones shifting to accommodate the life that would shortly enter the world. Rapid full-body healing would cause more harm than good if it put her back in a normal resting state, whether magic or alien science in nature. Otherwise, Goku would have surely forced a senzu down her throat regardless of her refusal of any kind of "drugs".

Which was loudly reaffirmed the instant the flabbergasted Dr. Caduceus mentioned “pain management.” At this point, the mantra was grating on Bulma’s nerves something fierce. "Take the damn _drugs,_ Chi-Chi! I promise, it will in no way adversely affect the baby!" 

Huffing through whatever Lamaze they practiced out in the boonies while seated in a perfect lotus pose, the shorter woman managed to look like she gave zero shits. "I don' need any such thing! I gave birth ta mah first without 'em."

"That's not the _point!"_ If there had ever been a time when Bulma wanted to strangle the other woman...but then again, she _was_ in active labor. And that was still fresh enough in the scientist's mind for her to have the sympathy required not to resort to murdering her friend. Yelling wasn't going to help anyway. Breathing through her nose and counting, she continued in a more reasonable tone, "You don't have to be a martyr, Chi-Chi." Then, grinning wryly, "It’s pretty good stuff. Trust me."

Hunched into a too-tiny plastic chair next to the bed, in his smallest voice, Goku dared to add, "Maybe you should take 'em, Hon? You're in pain and they can help and—"

**"NO DRUGS!"**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd meant for more plot to happen in this chapter. Blame Vegeta that it didn't (he wasn't even going to be _doing_ anything originally, but if I didn't mention him, you'd think he'd have left! It took more words to explain why he plausibly wouldn't have).
> 
> Also, trying really hard not to get _too_ descriptive without glancing over anything important. If I'm squicking anybody out, please let me know!
> 
> And another OC because a nurse probably can't handle what Chi-Chi's got going on. Apologies for the stupid, not-at-all clever name.


	14. (Birth is) A Beautiful Mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The good doctor is at her wit's end with trying to help Chi-Chi give birth safely. Chi-Chi is having none of this modern crap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty frank discussion of birth here. Nothing overly graphic or descriptive, but it's there all the same.

A baby boy was born butt first at just after seven in the morning on December 31st. Clocking in at 4 pounds and 4 ounces, the doctor and nurse were astonished at his overall healthy appearance (he even had a full head of hair!) Despite having been born at, by anyone’s best estimate, 35 weeks and having a low birth weight, he didn’t appear to need to spend any time in a NICU. In fact, no less than five seconds after he’d been placed on Chi-Chi’s chest, he clamped on and started draining down his first meal like a champ. The baby wasn’t concerning in the least. Well, except for the obviously abnormal, fully-formed, furry _tail_ trailing down his backside. 

His mother, on the other hand, was _incorrigible_. Dr. Caduceus had, at several points during the four hours she’d been assisting (or at least trying to assist) Chi-Chi through her labor and delivery, wanted to:

a) scream  
b) leave the room and let the crazy nature woman fend for herself  
c) jump out the window, and/or  
d) bang her head against a wall in frustration.

Of course, she was a professional and did none of these things, but while she was practically cast aside (by very nearly having her teeth kicked in) for having quite reasonably suggested medical intervention, it was sorely tempting to do all of them. Perhaps at once.

First, it was a refusal of pain medication; which while uncommon, wasn’t unheard of. That wasn’t concerning on its own. What was concerning was the fact that the baby was presenting breech with a low-lying placenta; both a risk of hemorrhage for the mother (who had already been bleeding profusely) and loss of oxygen for the baby. _Standard_ procedure would dictate an emergency caesarian. _Any_ doctor in _any_ hospital in the _world_ would recommend it. Trying to explain this to the country couple from the middle of nowhere (who evidently hadn’t even _considered_ hospital care prior to arriving at Capsule Corp’s Medical Wing) was an exercise in futility. The father’s eyes gradually widened in horror as it became clear what the she was asking (as if _she_ were the barbarian here!) The mother, on the other hand, knew from the get-go and reacted _violently_. With a scream that would rival the mythological Banshee, she announced that anyone coming near her with a knife would be stabbed with it. Repeatedly. Even with Bulma’s attempts to make clear that the doctor wasn’t a mad scientist intent on gruesome experiments and off-hand statistics on how _normal_ it was considered in modern medicine (and not whatever dark ages they were from), the couple would not be moved.

So, breech birth it was.

Which wouldn’t have been the end of the world, except the woman downright _refused_ to listen to anything she said! Most mothers Dr. Caduceus had encountered in her long line of work were rather compliant. Even the ones who didn’t request being doped up to the point where they couldn’t move around usually acquiesced to the entreaties of the knowledgeable medical staff. Mrs. Son was not most women. She chose positions to labor in that did not provide easy access to doctor or nurse to monitor her progress and moved around so much that even if she had, it would have been impossible to do much more than occasionally check for fetal distress (mercifully, there was none). Any demands were met with stout refusals delivered in curse-laden shrieks and threats to bodily harm. And judging from the hand shaped indent on the supposedly solid metal bar attached to her bed, she was more than capable of carrying them all out. In a moment of what must have been insanity, the doctor wondered why her husband’s hand didn’t crush in her inhuman grip. Obviously, the bar must have been hollow aluminum. Any other explanation made no sense.

(In truth, Goku’s hand had suffered considerable damage while being even being stronger than the in actuality, very solid steel. He kept a running tally of how many fractures and outright breaks she was causing; focusing on his own pain was so much easier on his heart than focusing on Chi-Chi’s, echoes and shadows of which had been blaring over his telepathic channels quite clearly. He could literally not concentrate on the effort it would take to block out, amplified as it was through the physical contact. Probably wouldn't even if he could have, out some combination of fairness and empathy. So, he focused on the bones in his hand splintering beneath the skin instead. But Dr. Caduceus would never know this.)

At the end of it, the baby was born with vexingly little help from either nurse or doctor (why had she even been called in for this?) but seemed, for all intents and purposes, to be healthy, if not very small. The baby wasn’t concerning at all. The problem was the new mother (who must have been the universe’s most disagreeable patient) still potentially being in danger of _bleeding to death_. 

As much as the doctor’s petty side wanted to just stab the insane Earth Mother with a hypodermic needle containing compounds necessary to slow the bleeding and replace lost fluids out of spite, one look at the new family and her heart melted a little (okay, a lot. She _did_ get into this profession for a reason, after all). The new dad had relocated to the bed and was pillowing his exhausted wife against his chest, both supporting their newborn’s tiny head in a cradle of formed by the pair of their hands. It was _adorable_. After reevaluating her opinion of the couple based on their fluffy family moment, Dr. Caduceus had no trouble mustering up a friendly bedside manner to approach her patient about the medication she wanted to administer. And amazingly, she let her without any fuss.

Bulma, who had stayed in the room through the entire ordeal in case of an emergency (such as, “Someone, go get Dende, stat!”) as well as to introduce modern medical concepts she thought might be lost on the country bumpkins known as the Sons, felt like an enormous third wheel at the sight of them in the aftermath.

There were times when she and the fighters had gotten together over the years that weren’t threats to the very planet; cruises, BBQs, parties. Plain old get-togethers to keep in touch and have fun. Goku, and later Gohan, very rarely ever came to any. It was posited that Chi-Chi wasn’t _letting_ them come; making Gohan study far and above anything resembling an appropriate grade level for his age, and making Goku….do something. Chores? The point was, she was obviously chaining a free spirit to a life he didn’t _(wouldn't)_ want. After all, he hadn’t even known what marriage was before he’d gone and gotten married. Clearly, Goku just went along with whatever Chi-Chi said because she told him that’s what married people do. Right?

_….right?_

They had all been operating under the apparently mistaken opinion that Goku wasn’t exactly where he wanted to be at the times when his friends were off having fun. _That he didn’t love his wife_. They joked about introducing him to the concept of divorce in the same manner that he’d been introduced to matrimony when the Sons weren’t around. Sharing looks of confusion and irritation in Chi-Chi’s direction when she’d yell at him for something or other when they were. They were all secure in the knowledge that as his friends, they _knew_ Goku. That between the long intervals of time during which he chose to visit, he remained unchanged, unwavering in what made him, well _him_. The truth of the matter was though, that none of them ever saw _this._

The casual touch proved how comfortable they were with each other, their mirrored expressions displaying nothing but pure, unadulterated love for each other and the life they’d created. A family. Something Bulma not had experienced with Yamucha, despite years and years of dedication to trying to make something of the failed relationship of their teenage years. Something she didn’t have with Vegeta either and likely never would (what with him flying off into space for pretty much her entire pregnancy and a good portion of their son’s infancy). Vegeta was too different; too _alien_ and he’d made it rather painfully clear that he was not interested in commitment (she was almost certain that the GR she and her father had built into the complex proper was the only reason he was sticking around— _it wasn’t also a spaceship)._ That didn't stop her from continuing to sleep with him; she'd take what she could get. But there was no love there. For either of them.

It didn’t take her prodigious mind long to identify the sting she felt at the sight as jealousy. She'd seen it enough to know. In her experience though, she had been the one being envied; she was extraordinarily beautiful, massively wealthy, tremendously smart. She'd never _had_ anything to envy before.

And she was surprised at how much it hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of this chapter is from the perspective of an OC who basically exists to serve as a springboard for a normal human's reactions to Chi-Chi's brand of crazy. I tried to keep the tone humorous here
> 
> The Bulma angst at the end of that there tho. Sorry about that. There didn't seem to be a better place to end it. Warm fuzzies are inbound! And probs at least a senzu for Goku. That has to hurt.
> 
> * * *
> 
> And now, for a wall of text (some of which was just shamelessly copy/pasted from a user comment thread. SO SUE ME).
> 
> **Guys, I have some serious headcanon about Goten being born premature.**
> 
> Firstly, I don't think that Saiyan babies spend less time gestating than their human counterparts. This is a semi-popular fanon that I just don't get.
> 
> If you want to take [Dragon Ball Minus](http://manga-joy.com/dragon-ball-minus/1/9/) as canon (and not everyone does because it retroactively changes some things and only came out last year as a bonus chapter in Jaco the Galactic Patrolman), Goku was apparently chilling in his baby incubator for _three years_. And he doesn't look like a three year old, or even a two year old, if you adjust for the 9 months he would have been cooking as a human—he looks like _maybe_ one (which might not mean much because Marron was supposed to have been three during the Buu Saga and she looked about one too. Maybe it's an art style thing, IDK). It also might not translate into three _Earth_ years—we have no metric for how long a year on Planet Vegeta was in relation to an Earth Year. BUT! It does mean that Saiyan babies "bake" to the equivalent development of a human toddler. Which would suggest that Saiyan fetal maturation is indeed, longer than a human's ([FUN SCIENCE FACT: human babies would have too cook twice as long to be of comparable self-sufficiency of a chimpanzee](http://blogs.scientificamerican.com/observations/why-humans-give-birth-to-helpless-babies/)).
> 
> Given this piece of (maybe!canon) evidence and actual science, I think it's more likely that Saiyan buns spend _more_ time in the oven than humans. Because Saiyan babies are pretty darn self-sufficient, wrecking planets after just a good space-nap. But! It might also be that this is a completely artificial time-frame for _natural_ birth. Since Goku in DBMinus is chilling in a brooder and not a uterus, the idea that Saiyan women pop out kids before they're ready and put them in artificial incubators has some merit. It may not be that the Saiyans would naturally bake longer if their women chose to remain pregnant and give birth. It might just be a convenience. Like, the longer they leave the kid in the thing, the more independent they'll be when they come out (so they leave them in well past the point of viability. Ain't no Saiyan got time for infancy).
> 
> You _can_ argue a counterpoint from the same FUN SCIENCE article I linked to regarding metabolic rates (@ 9 months, mom can't supply both herself and baby with energy, so delivers. Saiyans demi-Saiyans are shown to have ENORMOUS metabolisms that could cause an early delivery in a human mother, given the ridiculous amount of energy she'd need to generate. But even then, the kid would still be underdeveloped (and thus, a **preemie** ). Incidentally, this is why I threw hints in here and there that Chi-Chi was eating similar amounts to Gohan. (SHE NEEDS THE ENERGY FOR THAT HUNGRY BABY).
> 
> WHEW.
> 
> Basically, you will pry preemie Goten from my cold, dead hands.
> 
> * * *
> 
> As for Chi-Chi, she has a fairly common condition called Placenta Previa. I won't get into too many descriptive details, but the long and short of it is that it can cause bleeding in the 2nd/3rd trimesters and during labor as well as premature delivery. And in severe cases, can be deadly for both mom and baby when giving birth naturally. In Chi-Chi's case for this fic, she has nothing that she couldn't have survived on her own had Goku not been there and magicked them to a hospital (or at least the closest thing to one Chi-Chi would permit and could help them keep out of the limelight in the aftermath of the Cell Games), but any doctor seeing her in a hospital today would absolutely insist on a C-section to avoid the potential for complications leading to death. 
> 
> .......I like putting actual science into my fics. (And writing really long notes, apparently)


	15. A Healthy Serving of Vegebul is an Important Part of Any Diet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta and Bulma have an illuminating conversation. For Vegeta.

Bulma exited out into the waiting area to let Gohan and Ox-King know they could see Chi-Chi and the baby, though she was still so wrapped up in her own epiphany that she merely nodded in their direction. Sighing, she checked the baby monitor feed on her watch to check on Trunks (he had been sleeping through the night lately, but she wouldn’t have been surprised if the commotion downstairs woke him up, with his super-sensitive Saiyan hearing). She wasn’t sure to be relieved or disappointed that it hadn’t. In her present state of mind, sitting alone in the waiting room was going to be as depressing as hell.

“It’s done then?”

The baritone voice did take Bulma by surprise, if only because she had assumed it would have vacated the room long ago.

“Vegeta?”

The prince remained quiet for several beats. Explaining things that would have been obvious were he not surrounded by the uncultured and uneducated idiots known as the human race was a chore. He was bestowing on them a great honor! Admitting as much out loud would be difficult to swallow. But it was Bulma (to whom for reasons he could not understand, was easier to talk to about, well _anything)_ and they were alone. “It’s custom.”

Recognizing the brevity as Vegeta’s brand of a conversation opener, and welcoming the distraction from her melancholy, Bulma walked over to him and mimicked his trademark crossed-arms-while-leaning-against-a-wall pose and waited for him to elaborate.

After a small eternity, he did.

“As a warrior race, Saiyans did not often form familial bonds. We recognized blood ties, but rarely formed family units like Kakarrot’s. That comradery was reserved for the relationship between squad members and respected fighters.”

Bulma wondered if Vegeta was telling her that he considered her a part of his "squad" and if that would be enough.

“The living seldom mourned the dead, especially if their deaths were achieved through battle. We celebrated victories and we celebrated the memories of great battles, even if they resulted in great losses.”

Loathe to interrupt Vegeta in a rare moment of talkativeness, Bulma bit her tongue when the impulse to ask just where he was going with this came up. Seriously, it was like he was giving a weird Saiyan eulogy.

“The woman was weak; human. But she has shown fierceness that a Saiyan would toast to this night.”

Oh. My. God. He _was._ “Vegeta, Chi-Chi’s not dead.”

His eyes snapped to her face, wordlessly demanding an explanation. Feeling her face heat at the intensity of his gaze, Bulma suppressed a shudder. _How did he **do** that?_ “Well, it did get a bit hairy there for a bit with the bleeding and how early it was, but it worked out. They both pulled through.”

Flummoxed. Vegeta did not have many facial expressions in his repertoire outside of variations of anger and irritation (except for his excited face; the smirk he reserved before a good fight and a good….other word that started with the letter ‘f’ that Bulma didn’t want to think about because, damn it, she already _was)._ Anything beyond that, being typically out of character for him, tended to look exaggerated on his face. And he was definitely flummoxed now. It was ineffably cute.

Filing the sight under “cherished treasures to be remembered for all time” before he could recover and affect a neutral countenance felt like the most important thing she’d ever done. (Millennia would surely pass next time such an opportunity once again presented itself). As an added benefit, it gave the genius time to deliberate over just what parts of human reproduction Vegeta still remained blissfully unaware of. “Chi-Chi’s a real champ though, going through that un-medicated.” Her blue eyes raked over his face carefully, searching for minute twitches that might betray emotion usually well concealed. “I had a constant stream of painkillers pumped directly into my _spine_ and it still hurt like balls.” 

If she hadn’t been watching, she might have missed the slight widening of his eyes. “Ended up pretty normal though, for all that she scared us half to death.” If Bulma had a cigarette on her, she would have taken a long slow, drag. As it was, all she could do was pause to enjoy the incredulity slowly blooming next to her. “They’re going to need to stay here a few days, at least. She did lose a lot of blood and the doctor wants to make sure she’s stable before we release her back into the wild. The baby too, is really small, and while he’s part Saiyan and strong, and all that jazz, he’s as subject to potentially having under-developed lungs as a human infant.” _Almost there._ “I didn’t see Gohan until he was already pre-school-aged, but Trunks at least, looked pretty comparable to a run of the mill human baby when he came out.”

He finally broke. “This is _normal?!”_

Bulma wanted to laugh. “Well, yes and no. Normally, we tote kidders around for 9 months, give or take. Chi-Chi was probably about 7 or 8? We don’t know exactly, on account of her not _seeing a real doctor_ until now, but it was definitely ahead of schedule. As for the screaming and mind-numbing pain? Pretty universal.”

Vegeta, who was also in possession of a prodigious mind, did not take long to put two and two together. It did, however, take him some time to extradite his jaw from the floor. “You. You went through _that?”_ he managed, gesticulating wildly in the direction of the back room where the Son family still resided. He seemed to be trying to reconcile the image of Chi-Chi when she’d arrived with the woman in front of him. She’d looked like death. And she’d screamed like she was suffering the worst torture.

Bulma, maddeningly, just cocked her head at him. “Well, yeah. That’s kind of how having babies works.”

Caught between curiosity and utter horror, Vegeta couldn’t stop his mouth from uttering, “Did you get that _big?”_

To which she really did laugh. “Bigger!”

This woman, who always reminded them that she was weaker than they, who always stayed (mostly never) out of way of the fighting. This _genius,_ beautiful, _damnable_ human woman was laughing in the face of what must have been excruciating pain. She almost seemed to be bizarrely thinking back on it _fondly._ He would have chalked it up to over-exaggeration on Chi-Chi’s part (and on Bulma’s part) had he not been there. But Kakarrot’s ki didn’t lie. He had linked his own life-force with that of his woman’s; channeled her distress through his own. It was impossible to ignore. And impossible to fake.

Bulma wasn’t fazed. “It’s a boy, by the way.” She was _smiling._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't mean for this whole chapter to be Vegebul. I really didn't! I meant for them to be the opening scene and then I'd move onto Son Family fluff. But damn it, Vegeta. I can't quit you!
> 
> ....also, neither apparently, can Bulma. Stop thinking sexy thoughts, woman! This fic is rated teen, you hear me!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Son family has a Moment™ and baby Goten gets his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brush your teeth after you read this chapter. It's sugar content is rated above the WHO's daily recommendation.
> 
> AND, I'm pretty sure I want to end it here. But I might make this idea into something of a series. "These Women Will Change the World" or something. We'll see ;)

His mother was a _mess_. Hair plastered to her forehead with sweat and wearing what looked like nothing more than a sheet, Chi-Chi looked, well, like his father did after a fight. Minus the blood. He was really glad that there didn’t seem to be any more blood.

“Gohan, come and meet your new brother.” The voice was lacking its usual boisterous charm; Gohan supposed his father was trying to let his mother sleep.

Tiptoeing quietly over to the bed where his parents were, Gohan was barely able to identify the swaddled form cuddled on his mother’s chest as a baby at first. “I have a brother?” he asked, in a whisper, not wanting to disturb the quiet.

Goku smiled up at his first son, though it too was subdued. He was drained from sharing so much ki with Chi-Chi and the baby in an effort to help their own life-forces stabilize and keep them warm. And now that he wasn’t focusing as hard on that, his right hand really hurt. It wouldn’t stop him from being happy (few things would) but it did certainly put a damper on how chipper he could outwardly be. “He’s really little! I don’ understand too well, but the doc says it’s because he was a bit early.”

Awestruck, Gohan reached a finger out to stroke his brother’s tiny cheek; everything else was covered in blankets and hat. It brought him great joy when the baby let out a soft sigh in response, seeming to appreciate the contact even in sleep. “He’s adorable!”

The sight of Gohan’s thousand-watt grin was enough to lift Goku’s spirits to more a more normal, jovial baseline. He beamed right back, fierce pride and love for this awesome kid he got to call his own. Gohan was somehow the best parts of both him and Chi-Chi and better than the two put together in every way. 

“And yer a big bro now!” Ox-King proclaimed as he shuffled as softly across the floor as was possible for a man of his massive size. Clapping Gohan on the back with one hand and squeezing Goku’s with the other, he connected them. They were a family.

“How’s Mom?” Gohan met his father’s eyes and found something resembling sadness in their black depths.

“She’s doin’ alright now; sleepin’. But it was real hard on her.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “The doc said it was rougher than a normal birth, on account of how much she was bleedin’, and kept yellin’ at us, sayin’ we should’ve come sooner.” Pouting, he added, “She and the baby are gonna need ta stay here for a few days so the doc can keep an eye on them.”

“What about a senzu? Couldn’t we heal her?”

If his left arm hadn’t been occupied and his right useless, Goku would’ve crossed them in a display of frustration. “Bulma says we can’t. Somethin’ about chemicals and needin’ to heal natural-like. I dun get it, but Chi-Chi didn’ wanna take anything anyway.”

Absurdly, that earned a light chuckle from Ox-King. “Don’ worry there, lads! Chi-Chi’ll be fine. She’s a strong lass—my daughter, after all!” This in turn, earned varying degrees of skepticism across their faces.

“Honestly,” chimed in a feminine tone, “ya’d think I was dyin’ here.” She hadn’t opened her eyes, lacking the energy to do much of anything. But her boys really were completely lost without her. “I’m not gonna run off on the doctor or anythin’ if y’all ain’t watchin’. Go on home, the lot o’ ya.”

All three of them unsurprisingly balked at the idea with a nearly simultaneous “But Chi-Chi—“ (or “But Mom,” in Gohan’s case) before she cut them off with an audible snort.

Finally opening her eyes, she addressed her father in the same tone she used with Gohan when he was avoiding his studies. “Pa, ya’ve gotta kingdom ta run. I dun care who ya left in charge, but ya should at least go an’ give the villagers an update before they march up ‘ere with pitchforks.” Sensing some reticence on his part, she continued, “I’m not gonna starve ta death in tha meantime.”

Goku looked very much like he wanted to argue that _he_ might starve to death, but wisely, kept his mouth shut.

“As fer ya two, yer not gonna accomplish anythin’ sittin’ around ‘ere waitin’ for the doctor to clear me an’ tha baby.”

Goku, who actually _had_ been productive; monitoring their ki levels and feeding them energy, was about to say otherwise, but was swiftly cut off with a loud, long-suffering sigh.

“Ya don’ hafta _stay_ home, but for goodness sake, at least go an’ get a bath an’ a change of clothes.” And then, for the first time ever, as just an afterthought, she added, “An’ Gohan, pick up some school things if yer commin’ back. We didn’ pack any in the rush to get outta tha house.”

It was Ox-King who managed to make a counter-point that Chi-Chi agreed to. “Shouldn’ we name tha babe first? I dun wanna miss it!”

The sparkles that immediately formed in Gohan’s eyes at the prospect could not be denied. “Can we, Mom?” The boy was practically vibrating with excitement.

Chi-Chi didn’t have the heart to actually throw her family out of the room when they were all so earnestly enthusiastic about the idea. She could grant them this. “I suppose we can. He can’ react jus’ yet though; he’s too small.” Seeing Ox-King jump into the air and run to his bag, she rolled her eyes.

“I have so many ideas! How abou’ Ox-Boy? Ox-Warrior? Oxymandias? Ox-Prince?” At the apathetic stares greeting him, he amended, “Oh, not regal enough? I know! Ox-King II!”

As for Gohan, he may have been brilliant, but natural naming genius, he was not. (He hadn’t prepared for this!)

When all eyes inevitably swiveled to Goku, he panicked. “I’m not good at this! Don’ ask me! We only settled on Gohan’s name ‘cause he laughed when I was hungry and it was Grandpa’s name besides!!”

Gohan pouted, mildly offended that he really _had_ been named after food. His father could be so tactless sometimes! (…all the time.) He decided his little brother’s name should have more thought put into it than _that,_ at least. So while his grandfather rattled off another dozen or so ox and cow themed names, Gohan racked his brain for ideas. After a lull, he chimed in with, “What do you think about Hoshi or Gokumo?”

Ox-King mumbled something about “proud family history” while Goku and Chi-Chi looked thoughtful. Ultimately, they decided “Gokumo” would be too confusing with the similar sounds and “Hoshi” was close, but just wasn’t quite right. Chi-Chi’s counter-suggestion of “Newton” was vetoed unanimously.

Feeling like he was onto something, Gohan brain-stormed a little bit more. When his face lit up and he grinned, exclaiming, “I’ve got it!” the rest of the room gave him their attention. And when he spoke the name of his baby brother for the first time, his parents agreed. It was _perfect._

Gohan peered down into the angelic sleeping face of his new brother and whispered, “Welcome to the world, Goten.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For your pun-loving pleasure, enjoy an encore presentation of Ox-King's brilliant name suggestions:
> 
> Oxbourne  
> Oxcar  
> Ox-Czar  
> Oxgood  
> Oxforde  
> Oxley  
> Cowlisto  
> Cowlaghan  
> Cownstantine  
> Cownt
> 
> Gohan's were actually more thoughtful. To share in his insight, here's a bit of background.
> 
> Goku's name is broken into two kanji characters: 悟 and 空  
> 悟 'go' - means 'to comprehend'  
> 空 'ku' - means 'sky'  
> So, Goku's name can be interpreted as 'understanding the sky'
> 
> Gohan's name is broken into two kanji characters as well: 悟 and 飯  
> 悟 'go' - is the same kanji used in Goku's name, meaning 'to comprehend'  
> 飯 ' han' means 'cooked rice' or 'meal'  
> The _word_ 'gohan' however, actually uses 御 for 'go', which is an honorific prefix, while 'han' is the noun for 'cooked rice' on its own. 御 is often optional, but in the case of 'gohan', it's become a part of the word.  
>  Thus, Gohan's name is a terrible pun.  
> 御飯 = actual word for 'cooked rice'  
> 悟飯 = Gohan's name - 'understanding cooked rice'
> 
> Goten's (悟天) name follows the same pattern, but is more flattering.  
> 悟 'go' - again, same meaning  
> 天 'ten' - means 'heaven'  
> 悟天 can be interpreted as 'understanding heaven'  
> ....it's actually a really pretty name *_*
> 
> As for the suggestions that I made up for him to use:
> 
> Gokumo (悟雲) follows the same 'go' + pattern, but in this case, 雲, pronounced 'kumo' means 'cloud'.  
> Hoshi (星) which means 'star' (and can also be pronounced 'sora') sort of follows the 'go' theme in sound, and the meaning theme of 'sky' but it isn't _perfect_.
> 
> Granted, I have only 3 semesters of _real_ Japanese under my belt and a lot of what I know is self-taught, but linguistics _fascinate_ me, so I always try to get this stuff right.
> 
> Lastly, THANK YOU ALL FOR READING OMG YOUR RESPONSES MAKE MY DAYS <3

**Author's Note:**

> I've always thought Chi-Chi was too much of a go-getter (and stubborn) to take Goku's request to stay dead lying down. She chased him down at the Budokai _seven years after the fact_ to get him to marry her like he promised (when they were twelve). Why would she just let this go?
> 
> I also find it interesting to explore how different the story might have gone if the awesome (and in my opinion, often under-used) women in the series took a more active role. And Chi-Chi gets so much fandom hate. She deserves the love!


End file.
